So, our man Mondli Makhanya of the Sunday Times has been well and truly shtupped right up what the late, great Frank Zappa, may his memory be blessed, would have called the poop-shoot - by Avusa Media MD Mike Robertson. He's the fellow with the cute moue of disapproval permanently etched on his sensitive lips. (Shame, man; the horrible part about all this is that Robertson is going to have to look up "moue" in the dictionary.)
But you don't have to take my irritating word for it; there're two very fine pieces on the matter of Makhanya versus Avusa Media by Anton "the harbinger" Harber (see here) and Gill "Grubstreet" Moodie (here).
Now that Makhanya has become an editor of a centre of excellence and a master of a "holistic strategy", he can hang out at Parkview's Scusi with ne'er-do-wells such as the Bullfinch (aka David Bullard) and I.
He'll even have time to have with us what the Bullfinch calls "a fry-up". But - let me stress, Mondli - you can pay for your own Lagavulin doubles this time ...Because the Bullfinch and I are not comparable with Makhanya - or vice-versa. The Bullfinch and I were kicked downstairs and straight out of my lady's chamber while Makhanya has been kicked upstairs. (Anyway, Bullfinch is a racist - he wants to kill all the bores - which of course neither Makhanya nor I is.)
I.e., Makhanya's still going to be getting the boodle, poodle, and while I cannot speak about the Bullfinch's pecuniary situation and resources, I can tell you that Harber doesn't pay me enough to keep Makhanya in the style to which he is accustomed (those Lagavulin doubles).
And it is a style to which Makhanya can remain accustomed - that's the lekker thing about it, as Denis Beckett might have said. Having been skopped upstairs, Mondli may join the august ranks of such people as Peter Sullivan - who spent years "upstairs" (at Independent, however), collecting a very nice salary, sending the occasional e-mail, going on freebie trips to Davos etc, playing a bit of golf, and so on.